


I'm Worrided

by horsetrackhiggs



Series: E/R Drabbles [2]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-04
Updated: 2013-04-04
Packaged: 2017-12-07 10:12:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/747335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horsetrackhiggs/pseuds/horsetrackhiggs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is concerned about Grantaire's drinking problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Worrided

Grantaire slowly removed the bottle of wine from his lips as the blond took a seat next to him. The chair creaked softly as Enjolras turned in his direction. Enjolras knew the smaller male had been here for hours, the amount of bottles scattered around the table only confirmed it.

“You…” He whispered, his tone filled with obvious worry. “You should stop drinking Grantaire.”

The drunk only clicked his tongue and broke the eye contact they had by turning his head away.

“I’m serious. It helps no one and we don’t need someone drunk all the time. Not only does it give you a bad name, but all of us. And—” Enjolras was cut off by Grantaire standing up in his chair and taking the bottle in his hand.

“Fuck off, Enjolras.” He breathed  he had heard this enough from every person who had taken a breath near him. He shook his head and let out a small laugh,  then raising the bottle to his mouth.   

Enjolras grasped at his wrist, his grip hard at first but lightened as his hand slid down to Grantaire’s. He squeezed it softly, trying his best not to knock the bottle from his hands. 

He gulped, “It could kill you, Grantaire.”

With that, Enjolras was gone. His words wrapped around Grantaire’s fragile heart, cradling it like a child who had injured themselves. 

The bottle slipped through this fingers, shattering as it made contact with the ground. The wine formed a puddle around his feet as his eyes locked with the door the other had went through.

This was the first time anyone cared if he was to die.

**Author's Note:**

> short again
> 
> if you wanna give me a prompt, send it over to my tumblr: loveaddictedjehan
> 
> Have a nice day. -Nola


End file.
